


Back To The Wall

by Anonymous



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, Dom Richie Tozier, Dom/sub, I Want That Twink Obliterated, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Size Difference, Sub Eddie Kaspbrak, Top Richie Tozier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:48:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21547102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Eddie comes to some belated realizations about himself when Richie gets just a little too enthusiastic during a kiss...
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 70
Kudos: 730
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: Oops! There WILL be a second chapter which I'll probably get up tomorrow, where they do follow through on all those promises.

"Oh, holy shit, I'm so sorry!" Richie gasps, and his hands are no longer gripping Eddie hard the way he wants them to, they're fluttering gently around him, Richie looking stricken. Eddie doesn't want Richie looking stricken, he wants Richie to slam him back into the wall and kiss him again. Eddie has only just recently remembered the last time he was this hard this fast, he didn't know it was possible at his age-- hell, for a long time he didn't think 'hard' and 'fast' were words that applied to him.

Sex always felt like a chore, he was always pushing back against the idea that he was doing it wrong-- that he shouldn't be doing the things he'd tried to do at all, and not with the woman he'd tried to do them with.

It wasn't just that it was Myra, that she was a woman, although yes, he'd known deep down that it was a problem that she was a woman, he knew he was lying to her in a sense, to both of them. But it was everything else about playing the role of a straight man, a 'good husband'... Everything about it had been wrong, everything about it had been...

But this? Richie?

And it's not just that it's Richie, who's a man, who he's loved since they were kids, even when he couldn't remember him. It's _this_ , it's the feeling he got when Richie kissed him like that, when he shoved him up against the wall with a hand wrapped around his jaw and the other gripping his hip.

"Don't apologize." Eddie groans, hauling Richie back in, pressing close to him. "Just fucking fuck me up, dude."

Richie stops fussing over him like he's made of glass, but he does just kind of... stop.

"Fuck-- fuck you up?" He asks at last, his voice creaking, his eyes wide.

"I mean-- I don't know. If you want?" He blushes under Richie's stare, but Richie is also looking pretty red, and maybe it's okay, maybe this can all be okay. He's not sure how, but it's Richie, it's them, and couldn't it be?

"What do you want?" Richie's hand settles on him again, curves around the side of his neck. Gentle, but... but there's a firmness there now. There's something in the tilt of his head and how he regards Eddie, how he looms over him.

"I want you to want me." He admits, still holding two fistfuls of Richie's shirt. "I want you to... shit, I want you to shove me up against the wall again and kiss me like you need it to breathe, and-- _shit,_ Richie, I want you to do shit to me. I want you to pick me up, throw me down, I want you to-- I want--"

Richie leans in even closer, as Eddie struggles to say what it is he wants. There's more, more he doesn't have the words for, and a few words he can't yet bring himself to speak. Things he knows he wants, things he spent too long believing were wrong. Sinful, or dirty, or sick. Beyond just liking men at all, the things he wants this man to do to him...

"Eddie..."

He directs him into a kiss. Compared to the first, it is still gentle, but the sense of control is there, and that's what he really, really wants. He wants Richie to _take_ , to hold him down and just... just...

"Please..." He whispers, when Richie's mouth leaves his. Richie's body keeps him crowded there against the wall, and he feels himself _relax_. It's never been like this before, he's never relaxed. Sex always put him on edge, it was difficult to get physically aroused, it was hard to be 'the man', to have to drive everything while he was just struggling to go through with it at all, and this is so different.

And it's not that there's a 'the man' and he isn't it, it's that they both are and it can mean whatever he wants it to, and everything about the way Richie is touching him and looking at him makes him feel like he could actually be okay, that he can be a sexual person. He can feel desire, it doesn't have to be hard, he doesn't have to fight for any scrap of it, he can just be open, because it's Richie.

"You like this?" Richie whispers, leaning down, lips against Eddie's ear. "You like a little rough stuff?"

"Yeah." He nods, eager, lets Richie feel just how into the rough stuff he is. Rocks against his thigh and feels the way he breathes, shaky, the way his hold tightens, one hand sliding up into Eddie's hair, the other grabbing for his ass so that Richie can grind back into him. "Yeah, I really think I do."

"Tell me what you want. You just have to tell me and I will, but I need you to tell me first. I'm not going to get rough unless I know it's exactly what you want."

"I want it. Hold me down. Be rough with me, all I want is someone to be rough with me, I can take rough, I-- When we were kids, we used to..."

"Oh, I would remember if we'd ever done this."

"Shut up." Eddie laughs and tucks his face down against Richie's chest. "No, when we were kids, you'd wrestle with me. And... the way I remember it, I lost a lot, but it didn't matter, because... when you did, I forgot to feel fragile. I wouldn't feel weak, or scared. I felt like just... a boy. You made me feel like just a boy, and it's all I wanted to feel. And when I forgot that summer, and I forgot you, us... I forgot how strong I could be. And my whole life since then, I've let myself be... smaller. I've had parts of me carved away."

He can feel himself shaking, and Richie gathers him in close, rubbing at his back and nuzzling into his hair and lets him work through the emotion of it.

"You're all still here." Richie promises him, kissing his temple. "No one... no one could ever take that from you. You _are_ \-- you have always been strong, and I know... I know your mom wanted you to be less than you were. And I know your ex-wife was the same. And I know... baby, I know, you must have felt so, so... strangled, all the time. But all the parts of you they were afraid of are there. And... you'll find it all again. We... I mean, shit, I've been places, too, man. I've shoved myself down into a box I didn't fit into because I thought it's what I had to be, I let what other people wanted me to be make me scared and small and miserable, I get it. And I get that it's different, and there's also shit I can't know, but I know you, Eddie Kaspbrak. You're the bravest man I've ever met."

"Richie..."

"And you're here. After everything, after everything, you came to me." Another kiss, and Richie's arms wrapped around him hard. "I'm going to take such good care of you, baby, I promise."

"Have you ever--?"

"No." He touches Eddie's cheek, guides him up, looks into his eyes with an open depth of something Eddie doesn't think he'll ever know what to do with. "Not... Guys, they-- I never took the risk. They were never you. A part of me... a part of me knew they weren't you. And I..."

"Me, either. Guys, but also... shit, I mean, I can imagine how well it would go over if I asked Myra for any of the things I want from you."

"You could've gotten a divorce much sooner."

He snorts, eyes fluttering closed a moment because somehow looking into Richie's eyes when Richie is making him laugh feels more naked than naked. "Yeah. Probably. But I didn't want these things with her. I mean, not just-- the gay part, yeah, but... but it's not-- But she was running my life for real. It wouldn't have been fun to ask her to throw me around, it wouldn't have been a game. You know?"

"I think so. You wanna play games with me?" Richie smiles at him, coaxes out a little more of a better mood. "You wanna get kinky? I-- I mean I know I haven't done shit, but I know... I know some things about what I like. I've, like... read about this shit."

"Yeah?"

"Well, I'm a sad forty year old gay with the internet, Eds, I've done my research."

"Porn counts as research now?"

"Not just porn! I mean, absolutely yes, I started with porn, but then I got, you know, curious. I read about things. Imagined things. Imagined... what I'd do with someone, if there was a guy. Cute. Little. Sweet, but a little bit feisty. Nice legs. Big doe eyes. I used to think about you... I didn't know who you were, I thought I was making you up."

"What did you think about doing to me?"

"Oh, that always depended... on whether you'd been good or bad." He leers, and Eddie feels a rush of heat, feels the way his pulse speeds. Any ground his arousal had lost when the emotions got a little thick is being regained now and then some. "If you were good... lay you down in the middle of my bed, rub your back, make you feel real good... pin you down a little bit, because you'd be... you'd be so easy to hold. Wrap my hands around your wrists, lean on you some, grind against your ass just to tease us both. Say some sweet things to you. Make you beg for me a little, but not a lot. Flip you over because you'd want to be face to face-- I always imagined you'd want it face to face, like... you'd actually like looking at all this."

"I like looking at all that." Eddie leans up to kiss him. "A lot."

"We'd do it slow. I'd hold both your hands, and you'd just have to come on my cock."

"Shit, Rich..."

"You wanna know what I think about doing if you've been bad?"

" _Yes_ , _fuck_."

"Drag you over to the nearest piece of furniture and put you over my knee-- I mean, it doesn't-- I don't need to, if that doesn't do it for you, or like... Not hard, anyway, it's really just to-- You know... Mostly it's about telling you what a brat you are and letting you know I noticed. That I've been paying attention to you. That I always pay attention to you, even when you're the worst. There doesn't have to be spanking, it can just be holding you down. Fucking you. Fucking you over the back of the couch, or fucking you, just from behind. Making you really beg, if you wanted me to touch you. Okay, can you-- like, do you have shit like this you can share, because I feel super exposed right now with my, like... deep dark fantasies."

"Richie, I am literally not going to last for any of that, and I want you to do all of it. Spankings included."

"Just if you've been naughty."

"Just if I've been naughty." He smiles. Leans up for another kiss-- and even though he'd started it, Richie takes over almost immediately, cradles him and slides his tongue into Eddie's mouth.

Domming brings out something in him, Eddie can already tell. In spite of the jitters that come from finally being really incredibly honest about some things, he's so slow and sure. You wouldn't know he was the ADHD poster child, not with the deliberation and care behind every single touch, every moment. And to be the focus of it feels good, feels right. Something in him just wants to answer to it, meet it, roll over and give everything in him up to it.

"Just if you've been naughty." Richie murmurs against his lips. "You've been... really good, though. What do you think about?"

"Right now? Right here, right here. Like... just-- shit, I've never felt like this, like... like I just need to take the edge off so I can actually last, like the second you touch me it's just gonna be over, man. So, like... I want all of that and I want you to push me down on the bed and I definitely want to get fucked, but first, just... Shit, Richie, you have these, these big hands, and I want you to put your hands on me right now, and I want to stop thinking, I want to feel you. And you can have all of me, I knew I was ready when I came here. But you make me so fucking hot..."

"You knew? What, like-- that you wanted all of it?"

"I didn't know how much the, uh, the rough stuff was going to do for me exactly, but... yeah. I didn't think I was being subtle."

"Well..." Richie bites his lip and gives Eddie a thorough look-over, his eyes dark.

They'd kept in touch, they'd texted every day when they were apart, they'd talked about Richie's need for big career changes, Eddie's divorce, and then when Eddie said he had to get as far away from New York as possible, and Richie had said LA fit the bill and he had space... Before he knew it, Eddie was shipping boxes out and buying a plane ticket-- and getting on the plane dressed _nice_ , instead of dressed comfy. He'd been famished when he'd gotten off the plane at LAX but the moment he saw Richie standing there, he could only really think about one thing-- and if his stomach hadn't made an embarrassingly audible noise, he wouldn't have given it another thought, but then Richie had insisted on taking him out to one of his favorite places, and by the time they'd gotten through their meal, there was no denying it was a heavily mutual vibe. He hadn't built it up in his memory, hadn't been misreading texts as more intimate than they were, this thing between them was undeniably real, and so he'd grabbed one of the peppermints from the hostess station and when they got through the door back at Richie's place, he'd gone for the kiss, and after a moment of surprise, Richie had taken that kiss and done something spectacular to it, slammed them into the wall with the force of more twenty seven years of pent up emotions. Memories they might have lost for a while, but the feelings never faded, and it all poured through that first kiss.

"When I was living in the hotel... when I was living in the hotel, before you asked me to just come here and stay with you... You left me this voicemail with new material you wanted to try out, and I... I'd just bought lube for the first time ever-- okay, don't laugh."

"Not laughing." Richie promises, popping the button on his jeans and wrestling his zipper down. "You bought lube?"

"And gloves. And a, uh, a toy, but I never... The angle was weird, alone, but I--"

"Listening to me?"

"It just kind of happened. I mean... I was getting ready to try, and I got the voicemail, and I just... I hit play. But I couldn't reach right, I couldn't pretend it was you. You've got such big fucking sexy hands..."

Richie _growls_ , and the sound ends up in Eddie's mouth when he kisses him again, when he pulls him out of his boxer briefs, and his hand is so big and so warm, it feels just right wrapped around him. Only a couple pumps of his hand before he's pulling away to yank Eddie's jeans down-- and he's wearing easy loafers to slip out of, because of the plane, even though they don't go with the jeans, but it's easy enough to kick those off and let Richie strip him from the waist down. He's wearing just his shirt and his socks when Richie gets his own cock out and hoists Eddie up, his back against the wall and his legs wrapping around Richie. He grabs on tight to Richie's shoulders-- also stupidly big and sexy, unfairly sexy-- and Richie braces one hand on the wall by Eddie's head, wraps the other around both of them.

Once he starts, Eddie's as gone as he thought he'd be-- he was wound up to begin with, but Richie's cock is as stupidly, sexily, unfairly big as his hands and his shoulders would suggest, and they're both leaking precome, and Richie is completely dressed, his own jeans barely even shoved down his thighs, Eddie shoots his load all over Richie's shirt and his hand and his cock, _fuck_ , he wants his cock...

They pant against each other's shoulders a while, Richie shifting to hold Eddie up more securely. He doesn't even put him back down, it's the hottest thing that's ever happened to Eddie-- not that there's much competition.

There's stuff he'd have to do to prep before anal, he knows, which he has time to worry about now that they've gotten this out of the way, but he meant what he'd said about being ready. His own hand hadn't been satisfying when he couldn't give himself enough, and the toy had been a little intimidating without someone else to explore it with, but his experimenting had still let him know this was something he really wanted, that he craved the feeling of something more inside him. And he'd known, he couldn't not know, that he trusted Richie to be the one to help him get that something more he was craving. And now... now they can have it. They can take a breather, clean up, and really start from the top and do it all.

He does hope they do this again sometime, though. Just the fact that Richie can hold him up against the wall like this is... yeah.

"Coming down, babe." Richie warns him, slowly guiding his legs to un-wrap, helping him get on his feet again. "There you go... there you go. That take the edge off?"

Eddie nods.

"You want to clean up?"

He nods again. His legs are still shaking. Richie leaves his pants on the floor and guides him back to his master bath, strips them both the rest of the way and drops their clothes into the hamper before grabbing a washcloth. He's gentle and thorough, while Eddie sits on the double vanity, perched between the two sleek glass basins.

Back in the bedroom, Richie lends him a bathrobe and gives him a glass of water, and Eddie leans against him, both of them a little more ready to be able to enjoy the post-coital cuddle after cleaning up and getting their breathing back in order.

"You're really something, Eddie Kaspbrak." Richie whispers into his hair, arm around his shoulders.

" _You're_ really something. Mm-- Rich?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Where's my carry on?"

"I dunno, you left it in my car? Like... once you started kissing me, I did not go back for your luggage."

"You were gonna get my luggage for me?" He smiles, dizzied by the slight implication.

"Well, sure, if you wanted me to." He reaches up, running a thumb over Eddie's lip, down his chin. Ruffles him and pets at him and looks at him with so much _warmth_. But it's not new, it's not because they've had sex and plan to continue doing so. It's how he's always looked at him, Eddie was just never good at catching it, growing up... But Richie had looked at him just like that, before they'd fought It again. Like he wanted to memorize every line of Eddie's face. Like whatever happened, he was happy just to be near him and to have a moment with him. Like if they died down there, maybe it would be okay, as long as...

"Could you?" He asks, pushing away any thoughts of death. "My carry on, the little one."

"I know what a carry on looks like." Richie snorts. Caresses the scar on Eddie's cheek.

"It has my stuff."

"Yeah, I know what a carry on does."

" _Lube_." He clarifies, and feels a little triumphant at the way Richie perks up beside him. "And the gloves... and the toy, if you-- if you ever think using a toy together would be fun. It's, um... it's not as big as the real thing."

"I'll get your carry on, baby." Richie promises. "I'll be right back."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big show! Eddie finally gets the bottoming experience he DESERVES.

"You know, keeping a TV in the bedroom isn't good for you." Eddie hums, and Richie makes a noise to show he's heard him, but doesn't argue.

Richie is sitting up against the headboard, pillows propped up behind him, and Eddie is fully draped over him, boneless, his head against Richie's chest, Richie's legs bracketing his, Richie's arms around him. He's still wearing Richie's bathrobe, he's swallowed up in it, and Richie is still naked. Richie had put on slippers and absolutely nothing else, to go out to the garage and get Eddie's luggage, made Eddie laugh as he watched him hustle out of the room butt naked and then come back in with all his suitcases. They hadn't jumped right back in for round two, bowing to the demands of... well, being forty, he guesses. But that had been fine-- better than fine, even. It had felt good to re-settle into bed for an afternoon nap, after the flight and the lunch date and the sex, to feel the solid warmth of Richie's body. The strength in him, but also the softness, Eddie loves the softness. Laid over the muscle here and there, just enough fat to snuggle into, so that Richie's whole body is a comfortable pillow, firmer or softer in different places.

It's just _nice_ , it's just nice to get to know Richie's body, to take some time before going for the main event to get comfortable with him, to appreciate the way those arms fit around him, the way he supports Eddie's weight against him like he was made to, the way he makes Eddie feel contained and held and safe... The way one broad, long-fingered hand sometimes steals into the open bathrobe to rub at his chest, firm little circles. The way it feels so natural after such a relatively short time, to just reach for each other and to be physical. They were always physical as kids-- there was no one else whose touch Eddie welcomed so readily. It's just nice to know that they still have that, or have it again.

The TV is on, some cooking show with the volume down low. The lights are off in the bedroom, but the curtains are open and the TV is on-- warm golden light radiating from each. It's bad for sleep, keeping a TV in the bedroom. Eddie had had one, with Myra, because the other thing a TV in the bedroom is bad for is intimacy, and he had wanted to avoid that, wanted to give her something else to focus on. Hoped if she settled in with her shows, she wouldn't mind if he wasn't up for much.

"It fucks up how you sleep." He adds, when Richie still doesn't say anything about it.

"I'll throw it out." Richie rolls them over, pinning him down.

"... What?"

"I'll get rid of it, I'll give it to someone, I'll throw it out." He kisses Eddie's forehead, both cheeks. His lips. "You don't want the TV? It's gone."

"Rich-- I mean, you don't have--"

"No, babe. It's fine. Look..." He fumbles for the remote to switch it off, shifting them around a little and helping Eddie get a pillow more firmly under his head. "I don't need a TV in the bedroom, if we want to watch anything, there's a TV in the living room. If I needed to watch something in bed--"

"You don't, it's bad for sleep."

"Right, but if I did, I have a laptop. Or a phone. Like... like if you settle into a new job and they ask you to travel and you're on a business trip and I can't fall asleep because the bedroom's too quiet, then I can watch shit to fall asleep to without having a TV. But I don't need a TV in my bedroom. I... I'm used to it. Because I'm used to sleeping alone. And it's nice to have some noise sometimes. But if it fucks with your sleep, it's not a big deal." He rolls his hips down against Eddie's. He's not hard, yet, it's more a punctuation than anything, but that, too, feels nice. "I don't mind not having a TV in the bedroom if I have you."

"We can think about it." Eddie leans up to kiss him. "Like... it's _okay_ if you want to keep your TV, we can put it in a cabinet that closes and you can have it when I'm not there. Our schedules are probably going to be really different sometimes, and... We'll figure a lot of shit out. You don't have to get rid of something just because I don't like it. But... thanks, for... like, listening to me."

"Sure." Richie smiles, nuzzles at him. It's silly and weird and Eddie adores it, the feeling of Richie's nose against his. He's never done that-- he thinks if anyone else tried, he would have a lecture loaded about germs and mucus and sanitation and the oils on your face and the bacteria, and a million things he doesn't care about when Richie is just trying to get closer.

Eddie excuses himself from bed, going through his carry-on before heading into the bathroom. He's not yet fully comfortable with the whole... prep process, but he's gotten to be more comfortable with it with his little solo practice. He'd rather handle the hygiene portion in perfect privacy, but as he stands in front of Richie's bathroom mirror-- their bathroom mirror?-- with a bottle of lube in one hand and a box of rubber gloves in the other, he thinks he wants Richie to take care of him, he wants Richie to... to see him at his most open and vulnerable. Isn't this what he had been ready for, aching for? To be able to not think or worry, because he trusts Richie with all of him?

He runs the lube under the hot water and then pats the bottle dry, and comes back to bed, where Richie is lounging. Still naked, relaxed, cock heavy against his thigh like he's just starting to fill out thinking about what's coming...

"Hey." Richie smiles up at him, warm. Pats the bed.

"Hey." Eddie grins, just a little nervous. He'd shed the bathrobe. Has a towel over his shoulder which he folds and lays down on a pillow. Richie helps him get his hips positioned over it at a comfortable angle, he takes the gloves and lube that Eddie passes him.

"You want to start with the toy? You said it was, um... a little smaller."

"Oh-- shit, yeah, it's in my--"

"Carry on." Richie laughs and kisses the inside of his knee. "I've got it. I'm going to take good care of you, okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I know you will."

He closes his eyes, feeling Richie leave the bed. A deep breath in, a deep breath out. His gut squirms in anticipation and he feels warm and just a little bit tingly, but he also knows he made the right decision, putting this in Richie's hands-- putting himself in Richie's hands. The bed dips again, Richie murmurs wordlessly before touching him, stroking his thighs until he begins to relax.

"Gonna start you with my fingers, get you feeling good, okay?"

"Yeah." Eddie nods, his voice a little high.

"This is for you, baby... you're so good, you're doing so good. Eddie... Eds. I need you to know that I mean that, like... this isn't kinky set-dressing, I am telling you... I really appreciate the trust you're placing in me, and like... what it means for you to open yourself up-- or, letting me open you up. I mean, you know. I really appreciate it. You. And I know you don't, like... chill very easily, and-- like, can I say that I'm proud of you? I am so proud of you, like... taking control of your life. We both got saddled with hang-ups, and you're really... Just talking with you and hearing how you're doing, hearing how you're taking care of yourself, it's... You make me want to do better, because I see you working so hard... I love you so much, and I just... You've done so much for yourself and I want to take care of you now, and like... let you keep being, you know... happy?"

"You make me happy." Eddie says, and Richie breaches him at last, after a lot of caressing, rubbing over his hole until he'd relaxed enough to welcome him in.

There's something so right about this-- Richie is careful, but not too too careful, and his fingers are so long, so thick. When Eddie tried to do this for himself, he couldn't quite manage what he wanted, but Richie opens him up so easily. Before he knows it, he's taking two fingers, feeling himself stretch around them, feeling the little slide in and out... and the intensity of it, when Richie finds his prostate. He couldn't reach it himself, but Richie is right there, massaging little circles over it, and Eddie hadn't been hard at first, but he is now, cock against his stomach and just starting to leak.

"Fuck..." Richie sighs. "You look so good, you look so good... you're _amazing_ , Eddie, you are so hot... You want more, baby? You want me to give you another finger, or you want your toy?"

"I want more." Eddie rolls his hips down against Richie's hand, feeling his fingers slide in deeper. Richie kisses each knee, gives his hip a squeeze with his dry hand, before he pulls out, leaving Eddie empty. He listens as Richie snaps the glove off and tosses it into the trash, as he gets the toy out. Listens to the obscenely wet squirt of the lube onto it.

"Okay, baby, here it comes... gonna go slow and let you adjust, all right? You're gonna do great, this is gonna give you what you want... you feel that?" Richie breathes against him, kisses brushing up his thigh, the faint stubble at his chin rough where Eddie's skin is soft.

He wants more of that, wants to feel the burn of it, wants it to redden the skin and leave him with a memory. The blunt, bulbous head of the toy presses in easy. Eddie had picked something friendly-looking, shopping for his first sex toy, almost cute-- only abstractly dick-shaped, a peachy-pink pastel, something on the softer side where the firmness is concerned. Even so, he'd had trouble getting past that final hurdle alone, but with Richie, everything just feels like it works. Richie experiments a little, with angle, with speed, murmuring praises between kisses, never giving Eddie enough prostate stimulation to feel like he could really come untouched, but it's still good-- and Eddie doesn't want to come until he has Richie's cock buried in him, until they can come together.

"Is that good, baby?" Richie asks him, as he slides the toy in as deep as it goes, as he traces his thumb around Eddie's stretched rim. "You feel good, all filled up?"

He nods, reaching for him, holding onto Richie's wrist where his free hand is still at Eddie's hip. "It's good, yeah."

"You like being full? Oh, honey, you look good like this. You look _real_ good..." He gives the flared base a tap, and Eddie jerks, gasping. "Baby, if you like toys, I'll buy you toys, too, we can use toys any time you want. Get you a nice little plug to keep you feeling full, if that's what you want. Get you different sizes, different shapes, find out what you like... we can play with all kinds of toys. You look so good with that cute little thing filling you up, but you're gonna look even better stretched around my cock..."

"Want you, yeah. Yeah, give it to me. Need _you_ , Rich..." Eddie whines. The toy is bottomed out and it's good, but he could take more, and the thought has been there idling in the back of his head ever since he saw Richie's cock, how much he wants to feel him.

"You gotta let me get a condom, baby, and then I'll take good care of you, okay? I mean, I'm clean! But like... we should maybe discuss rawdogging it when you're not kind of out of it, so... condom." He gives Eddie's knee another kiss, a warm nuzzle. "Fuck, you're cute, you're so cute."

"I'm not cute." Eddie protests, but without any fire.

"Oh yes you are." Richie taps his hip gently, to signal that he does in fact need his hand free to get that condom, and Eddie releases his wrist with a squeeze.

"'M not."

"Baby, you're the cutest." He chuckles.

Eddie pushes himself up on his elbows, feeling the shift of the toy inside him as he moves, and Richie grins over at the sound he makes at it. He pulls a condom from his nightstand and gives it a little shake, before moving back into position.

"Did you buy those when you asked me to move in?" Eddie arches his back, revels in the way Richie's eyes trace over him. "Did you want to fuck me?"

"Wanted to fuck you the day I learned what fucking was, yeah I bought condoms when I asked you to come... I didn't think we'd use them this soon, actually, I thought there'd be, like... Maybe you'd want-- I don't know. Easing into it."

"We eased in long-distance, I think."

"Yeah." Richie's smile goes all warm again, for just a moment. Eddie watches him roll the condom on and apply some lube, feeling a flutter of anticipation, and then Richie is sliding the toy out and lining himself up.

He doesn't push in, even as Eddie wraps his legs around him and tries to spur him on-- he leans over him and kisses him, deep and slow. Kisses him desperate and then kisses down from his lips to his jaw, his throat, open-mouthed and wet. The scrape of his teeth has Eddie squirming, trying to push down, trying to get his cock, and Richie gives him just the tip-- it stretches him wide enough to start feeling good, but it doesn't fill him, and he's discovered a deep need to be filled. Where Richie Tozier of all people got this self-control, Eddie doesn't know, and he whines, tangles his hands in Richie's hair only to have one grabbed and slammed down on the bed.

"Ask me nicely." He grins against Eddie's neck, nips at him, quick and sharp. "Ask me real sweet, baby, can you do that for me?"

"Please, Richie-- Rich, please, I want you..."

"Yeah?" He works his way a little lower, bends over Eddie's chest so that he can tease a nipple. "Need me?"

"So bad."

"Okay... okay, nice and slow, though-- You don't set the pace, I set the pace. You gonna behave?"

"Gonna behave if you give me that _dick_."

Richie chuckles and gives him another hint of teeth. "Ohh, you've got _demands_ , huh? Baby's got _demands_ , well I better give my baby what he needs..."

He kisses his way back up to Eddie's mouth and he pushes in slow, catches Eddie's moan in a bruising kiss. And Eddie knew he would be big, knew it would be more, but he'd been deliriously, delightfully unprepared for the reality. Richie doesn't just fill him, Richie _stuffs_ him. He's so big Eddie doesn't know how to keep breathing, and he hopes it's like this every time. He hopes he never gets used to it.

"Other hand." Richie huffs, pausing-- not even all the way inside, and Eddie lets out another desperate little moan at the thought. "Put your other hand up by this one, come on. That's a good boy..."

Once Eddie has obeyed, Richie arranges him to cross his wrists overhead, traps them both under one hand, holding him down... Eddie pushes back just to feel the strength in his grip, and then he relaxes completely-- and he's rewarded when Richie slides the rest of the way in, and something... something in him just lets go, something in him _blossoms_. He feels so warm and so...

So loose, in the center of his chest where there's been an ever-present tightness so much of his life. No worries, no fears, no anxious thoughts that run in circles, nothing he has to push back against or try to ignore, only this. Freedom. Calm. Bliss.

"Oh, baby..." Richie breathes the words out, and Eddie meets his eyes, sees the awe there.

"Richie..."

"Yeah, Eds, anything you need, you're doing so good, you're-- fuck, you're taking everything so good, you feel fucking _amazing_... You ready to move?"

He nods, rocking his hips down against Richie just a little. Richie can set the pace, Eddie's ready just to move with him, to show him he's good... show him he's loving everything he's getting. Richie touches him, hand spread so wide over his ribcage, his chest, wrapping around his hip... so big, so firm, Eddie's never felt like this with someone, like he's just flying-- he's flying, but it's safe, because Richie is keeping him all in one piece, Richie's big hands are holding him together so that he can't break apart if he flies too high. Richie has him, safe and sound, but Richie won't keep him on the ground, he'll let him fly. Let him fly and make it all okay to leave his old comfort zone behind and expand, become something or someone new, something or someone better and happier and freer and more at peace...

The world is big and bright all of a sudden, without his fears. The world is beautiful. Richie is beautiful, his eyes dark with want, his lips kiss-stung red, the flush and sweat to his skin making him glow. His hair mussed from where Eddie had played through it, his glasses askew, and he's beautiful, he's beautiful... his shoulders are so broad and Eddie itches to cling to them, dig his nails in and feel the muscle. His chest has some of the same flush that paints his face, has a patch of dark hair... not as thick as the trail down from his navel to the curls around the base of his cock, or as coarse, but the sight of it does something to Eddie.

It says 'virile'. It says 'strong'. It says 'male'-- all those things he's desired and denied himself. Did he ever dream, back when they were growing up together, that Richie would grow up quite this good? The height difference has remained as it was, Richie's always been taller than him, always been a little bit broader, but not like he is now... and Eddie always liked that he was bigger, but did he ever dream Richie would get so broad? That he'd grow up to have those arms, those thighs?

He can only look so far down, can't watch Richie's cock disappear into him, but he can watch the flex of Richie's abdomen, can see the way his own cock is dripping, leaving a puddle of slick mess on his belly, and it smears between them when Richie presses his torso down to Eddie's, kisses up the side of his face and nuzzles at his temple, breathes in his sweat.

He can feel the pleasure building, spinning out. Can feel where it tugs taut at the muscles along his inner thighs, the drawing up and drawing in. The world is big and bright, but the only thing in it that matters is Richie, pressed close against him, giving him something to grind against as they move together, whispering wordlessly against him. It's that little bit he thinks he needs to push him over the edge, after everything Richie has teased and pleasured him with.

Richie grunts-- once, twice, rhythm faltering, but he doesn't stop, doesn't stop pressing kisses to Eddie's temple, doesn't stop touching him and holding him down, until Eddie comes between them. He pulls out slow and careful, and Eddie can feel the _draft_ , feel himself suddenly _open_ in a way he isn't yet accustomed to. The twitching, fluttering feeling in the ring of muscle, the emptiness... he doesn't think he could take any more prostate stimulation, but he misses the fullness, misses Richie deep inside him. He _whines_ at the loss, and Richie shushes him gently, kisses him gently.

"Hey, hey, baby, it's okay... Oh, wow, you-- oh, wow..."

"Hm?"

"Nothing, just-- Wow, that's... that's fucking hot." Richie tells him, as he sits back and carefully eases Eddie's legs from around him. "You're fucking hot. Like... you're amazing."

Eddie hums, pleased, lets his eyes drift closed. He can feel the shifting of the bed, can hear Richie as he moves around to clean up, move things around, ditch the condom. Richie gives him a little time, before he wipes up the lube from between his thighs with a corner of the towel, wipes up the congealing mess on Eddie's stomach.

"Bath or shower?" He asks, and when Eddie doesn't respond, he huffs out a near-silent laugh. "Sponge bath? Be right back, baby, okay?"

He manages another answering hum, but he finally knows what the words 'fucked out' mean and he's reveling in it. Richie isn't gone long-- he comes back to the bed with Eddie's wet wipes and a warm, damp cloth, another towel. He's endearingly thorough, as he moves Eddie around and cleans him up properly, thinks about Eddie's variety of issues with germs and mess and hygiene. And yet for once, Eddie doesn't care. He can't seem to make his brain stick on any of those things just yet. He prefers being clean because it was starting to get uncomfortable not to be, but germs are the farthest thing from his mind when Richie is paying attention to him now. Tender kisses to random spots, adoring. This... this is everything, to be the center of Richie's attention. It always was.

He remembers, suddenly, being teenagers, maybe the last year before they were separated, before they forgot... chasing Richie's attention, the two of them lying in the grass somewhere. The playful wrestling, the way they pulled back from it, blushing and laughing nervously... He wishes he had seen it in Richie back then, the desires that met his own. He wishes he had kissed him just once before they left Derry, and maybe he wouldn't have let himself be pushed back into boxes, afraid. Maybe he would have kept a ghost of a memory, been true to himself... but it's all right, even if he didn't. It's all right because they found each other again. It's all right, because he's here in Richie's bed, their bed. Richie's home, their home. 

Richie helps him back into the borrowed bathrobe, and Eddie snuggles eagerly down into the soft, worn fabric. Incredibly plush still, for being well-loved and well-laundered, and it's _hideous_ , it's brown with a hood and he _knows_ Richie bought it because it looks like a fluffy fucking Jedi, and he _loves_ it, he wants to live in Richie's bathrobe. Wants to burrow down into the lingering scent of it, fading laundry detergent and gently-worn musk. Wants to feel just that softness against his skin, the warmth of it. It must be warm for LA, he can't imagine Richie can actually stand to get much use out of it, but right now, with the loss of Richie's body on him and in him, Eddie feels cold enough to really appreciate the thickness of that robe.

"Beautiful." Richie says, and there's nothing teasing in it at all. He kisses Eddie's forehead, and helps him settle against a stack of pillows. Leaves him just long enough to refill his water glass.

Eddie just wants to sleep again, but he drinks when Richie brings the glass to his lips, and he soaks up the praise it gets him.

"What about dinner, baby? You want me to order something in? Anything you want... sushi, thai, chicken soup, burritos, health food, pizza, anything your heart desires."

"Mm. Not hungry."

"Okay, I'll ask again later." Richie kisses his temple, and Eddie feels something shivery and tingly spread through him. The same spot he'd been so focused on as they'd approached climax together... it had just been there before and now that spot is transformed, special. The lightest brush of lips or fingertips and Eddie is lit up again. "Sleep it off, I'm just gonna get stuff tidied up and I'll be right here, okay? Gonna put the towels in the hamper so there's no mess to worry about when you wake up. Is that okay? Then I'm gonna hold you close, you're gonna sleep a little more... we'll have dinner when you're ready. If you wake up hungry, I'll make you something."

"Okay." Eddie sighs.

"Eds? Babe? You were... really something else. You were... you were everything."

"You." His lips twitch into a smile. He listens to Richie bustling around the room, moving the open carry on to the corner where it won't be tripped over, tossing laundry into the hamper, putting things back in drawers.

When Eddie wakes, he's tucked into Richie's arms, the two of them half-tangled in the covers, warm and cozy. He thinks he could eat, but he's not too hungry-- hungry enough to think about what he'd like to order. Richie is awake, watching him fondly, lazily.

"Hey." He greets.

"Hey." Eddie laughs, and cuddles in tighter.

"You feel good?"

"I feel great."

"Nothing sore?"

"No." He shifts, testing it, but it feels good, like how he feels after a good run. "You gave me a workout, I like it."

"Okay, good." Richie runs a hand through his hair, ruffles it up and then smooths it out. "I want you to feel great. I want you to like it. Was, um... was I-- did I do okay? Like-- was it... right? When I pinned you down?"

"Very sexy." He finds Richie's collarbone with his lips. "You can do that any time, that was exactly what I asked you for."

"Dirty talk all okay?"

"Yeah. Um... when you--" He blushes, has to make himself push on. "When you talked about how I'd look, with your cock in me? And... that was good, that was great. Was I-- Should I have done more, or, like... I mean, I don't know-- Was I good?"

"Perfect." Richie promises, pulls him up into a quick kiss. "You were perfect. We'll figure more stuff out-- we'll get into all this stuff more just doing it. But, Eddie, that was... like, the hardest nut of my life, so. You're great."

"Rich?" He nuzzles at his jaw, feels the stubble. Feels a certain rightness in the way he has to lean up, the submissiveness of it. "You gonna buy me dinner?"

"Yeah. You wanna look at some menus? Come on."

He carries him-- carries him!-- into the living room, lays him carefully down on the sofa before bringing him a stack of menus from a drawer in the kitchen. Inserts himself under Eddie's head, a thigh for his pillow as he looks over his options, feeling very cared for. Not the way he's been cared for before, but really taken care of for him, given things he wants, things he asks for. The control is all a game, but at heart, everything Richie does is because it's what Eddie wants, and the very thought of it sends his heart soaring.

"Is this place good?" He asks, waving one.

"I only keep menus if they're good."

"I want a chicken burrito. Chips and guac. But only if there's no cilantro, I'm--"

"Allergic, got it."

"And... I want a coke." He adds, testing the boundaries of what he can ask for-- what he can demand, in the aftermath. He thinks it could actually be a lot, and Richie would just keep saying yes, but he's not used to yes. Myra had been of the opinion that soda was inherently bad for you, that it would destroy your tooth enamel and your esophagus, and Eddie had accepted that uncritically when they had been together, only to realize that he actually really _liked_ soda, and candy, that he could allow himself a little indulgence, brush his teeth afterwards, and be perfectly fine. 

"Oh, as you wish." Richie takes the menu, and his phone. He's wearing sweatpants now, but nothing else, and Eddie wonders if he plans on answering the door like that. There's something so obscene about it, the slightly visible outline of that massive cock, the air of having just had sex-- or, well, having had sex at some point. His hair is still wild.

He can picture the scene, how it would look to someone else. Richie answering the door, barely dressed, his broad shoulders and his chest, the hair that dusts his bare arms, the trail down from his navel to those low-riding sweatpants, how little they really do for modesty when he's not wearing underwear... and if you looked past Richie in the doorway, Eddie, lounging on the sofa like a Roman emperor, swallowed up in a bathrobe that is definitely sized for Richie and not himself. The definition of fucked out, even still.

In the end, Richie throws on a shirt, and Eddie is in the bathroom when their food arrives. They eat on the sofa, an extra soft pillow under Eddie, Richie feeding him chips and stealing sips of his extra large drink. They don't bother with the TV, just soft music, throwback jams, and the sound of the ocean. He can't believe Richie lives right on the ocean-- _they_ live right on the ocean.

He can't believe he gets to call this life his own.

"There's a second bedroom where you can, like... if you need a home office or something, or I don't know." Richie tells him. "You can do something with it if you need it, there's like a desk in there and shit but I don't really use it. When you figure out your career stuff, it's yours. But, um... I dunno. I'm really glad you're sleeping with me. I mean, you are, right?"

"Yes." He snorts. "Of course I am. I wanna wake up to that dick, remember?"

Richie's eyebrows shoot up, mouth curving into a delighted smile, and Eddie leans up to kiss him-- closed-lipped, but warm.

"Eddie Kaspbrak, that dick is yours any time you want it."

Eddie beams, and settles in against his shoulder to enjoy the peaceful calm a little longer. They'll get up, they'll brush their teeth, they'll settle into bed... but they're in no rush. The sliding glass door onto the deck is open and the cool breeze and the sound of the ocean is rolling in, and every song reminds him of Richie, and their lives together-- their past, their present, their future. He has time to worry about what he needs to do, both in the immediate sense and in terms of a greater settling, but this moment is too perfect to hurry past. He belongs with Richie, here, and that's what matters.


End file.
